


Thursdays

by deltatime



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Aliens Made Them Do It, F/M, M/M, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:20:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27231112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deltatime/pseuds/deltatime
Summary: Jack, Daniel, and Sam need to prove they aren't demons with orgasms.
Relationships: Daniel Jackson/Jack O'Neill, Samantha "Sam" Carter/Daniel Jackson/Jack O'Neill
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37





	Thursdays

This was really SG-7's mission, although Sam supposed she was glad SG-7 was busy elsewhere because they'd have been killed a long time ago.

SG-2 had radioed in from P8X-851 asking for Teal'c to explain to the locals that they were not lying about not being Goa'ulds - apparently the word of a Jaffa was better than the word of five human strangers. With Teal'c otherwise occupied, SG-1's first-contact mission was pawned off on SG-3. SG-3 was scheduled to check up on P1C-192 after a solar eclipse; SG-8 was recalled from their mission to accompany SG-11 and sent to 192 in SG-3's place. SG-7, therefore, had been reassigned to babysit SG-11 - but that left their assignment to retrieve atmospheric monitoring equipment from P8R-824 open.

While a first-contact mission required all four members of SG-1, this retrieval effort should have been doable by just Sam, Jack, and Daniel. So off they went - a three-mile hike up a slight incline that counted as a hill on this remarkably flat and forested planet, pick up the equipment, and get home in time for dinner.

The first two and a half miles had been wholly uneventful. Initial reconnaissance had found no signs of sentient habitation within approximately miles of the Stargate. The planet would have been the galactic equivalent of a flyover state if not for the unusually high percentage of helium in the atmosphere. The atmospheric equipment would report exactly how high that percentage was, and (of significantly more interest to Sam) how much of that helium was helium-3. Positive findings could be revolutionary for fusion technology; shortages on Earth were one of the many obstacles to clean energy.

As the team hiked up the animal trail, O'Neill and Daniel were bickering about the capabilities of a variety of local takeout joints. Later, Sam’d be kicking herself that the whole situation wasn't ringing alarm bells in her head. This was a _remarkably_ well-kept animal trail, and at least one set of muddy footprints were not made by standard issue Air Force boots.

Jack had just reached his central argument in the burritos versus tacos debate when he was swept off his feet in a net suspended from a tree. In the blink of an eye, Sam and Daniel had their weapons out and were surveying the forest around them. It was too late. A dozen uncomfortably angry-looking people with uncomfortably sharp-looking spears emerged from the trees. Sam considered and discarded a handful of escape routes; she and Daniel could take out all twelve they could see, but it would make a lot of noise and Jack would still be stuck in the net.

"We're peaceful explorers from the planet Earth," Daniel said, his voice pitched loud enough to carry. He’d chosen his tone carefully, speaking lowly and soothingly as if he were calming a frightened animal. "We don't want to hurt you."

"Speak for your damn self," Jack muttered from his net, suspended six feet above the ground.

One of the natives cut whatever rope was holding the net and Jack up. He crashed to the dirt. Three of the natives held their spears inches from his face, preventing him from scrambling to his feet.

Daniel sighed and holstered his gun, then held his hands up in the nearly-universal sign of surrender. Sam did the same. Jack was allowed to get to his feet with the requisite amount of grumbling. Their weapons and gear were taken from them, which prompted even more grumbling, and the three of them were prodded off into the dense forest.

Daniel did his best to interact with the natives as they trudged onward, but no one seemed inclined to talk back. Sam counted maybe sixteen people, although their face paint and identical clothes made it difficult for her to be confident in that number. They’d figure out a way out of this mess. This was no worse than other sticky situations SG-1 had gotten themselves into, and the fact that they hadn't been outright killed yet was downright positive.

Although they walked for almost three-quarters of an hour, they couldn't have gone more than two miles. They were moving slowly. The terrain was difficult even for the natives, and Sam suspected they were avoiding easier-to-travel paths that would give their captives more convenient escape routes.

Finally the forest thinned out. The underbrush and smaller trees had been removed, leaving only the huge trees overhead. Thinner though this area was, it was still heavily shaded even though Sam knew it was just before noon local time. So that was why the UAV hadn't picked up on the civilization; this settlement was likely invisible from the air.

Even if the trees weren't there, Sam suspected the SGC wouldn't have identified this as human habitation. The buildings, if they could technically be called buildings, seemed to be made of carefully trained and guided trees. The nearest structure’s tree-walls had their lower branches trimmed from head-height down. A private dwelling? It wasn’t large enough to be much else. The climate must be mild and dry year-round, Sam thought, for this to be functional housing.

They were herded further into the settlement. The structures seemed to grow older and more communal as they approached the center of the village. They were being scrutinized by the population, although Sam didn't hear any whispers. 

“D’you think they can’t talk at all, or they just won’t talk to us?” Sam asked Daniel.

“Hard to say for sure. They’re not making any attempts at communication, but they can hear me when I talk to them. They don’t understand me, or it’s not their place to speak, or they’re afraid of what we might do to them if they talk,” Daniel replied. “Or something else. Who knows.”

They came to a halt in front of the largest tree-fort Sam had ever seen. The wall-trees had grown right up against each other, creating a nearly solid barrier. One of the natives slammed the butt of her spear against the ground three times. A tall, older woman dressed in an intricately embroidered linen robe emerged from the shelter and examined them from the entryway. At her nod, their captors encouraged them into the building. Sam would have appreciated a little less spear-poking in their encouragement, but she followed Jack in nevertheless.

"Why have you returned, demons? What are your demands?" the woman asked tersely. Sam blinked; based on the total lack of communication for the last hour, she was surprised by the English.

"Demons? No, we're, we're not demons," Daniel said. "We're humans! Peaceful explorers!" If Sam had a dollar for every time she'd heard the _peaceful explorers_ line, she'd be set to retire. If she had another dollar for every time it didn't work the way Daniel hoped it would, she'd be set to retire in Paris.

The woman narrowed her eyes. Clearly she had expected a different response. If whatever the natives thought were demons were just giving up in the first minute of interrogation, they weren't very good demons.

"Prove it," the tall woman said. That was better than execution, or imprisonment, or any number of other things they'd been put through these past few years. _Prove it_ meant a chance to succeed, or escape while trying. She had a vague idea of which way to run, and she was sure Jack knew exactly where the Gate was. Whatever the proof was, SG-1 would figure out a way to make it happen.

"We'd love to," Jack said.

"How?" Sam asked.

"Only humans are capable of reproduction," the woman said.

“Excuse me,” Jack said flatly.

Daniel sputtered. "We can't stay long enough to have a _child_! That would take months! Lots of your moon phases, seasons, uh, time cycles. And besides... we just need to get home. If you really believe we’re demons, just escort us back to the Stargate – chappa’ai, ring of the gods. We’ll leave and never return."

"Evidence of reproduction, then," the elder allowed.

They thought that one over for a minute.

"You want..." Jack said, followed by an exceptionally crude gesture.

The woman nodded.

"Okay, then, Sam, um, turn around?" Daniel said shakily.

That wasn't the right answer. The woman pursed her lips.

"Her as well. It is required."

Daniel's eyebrows furrowed slightly. "It's really not. Actually, all that's - "

Jack cut him off with a look. "Doubt you're gonna sell that one, bud. Sounds like she lives in the better world, anyway."

A long beat of silence.

"We'll do it, but you need to give us privacy. Where we come from, this is done..." Behind closed doors? Behind tightly closed, securely locked doors, in the privacy of one's own home, without alien spectators or the threat of death? "...in private," Daniel stipulated.

That got him narrowed eyes and a wary nod from the woman. Apparently demons weren't capable of falsifying ejaculate. Must be pretty untalented demons, Sam thought somewhat hysterically. The woman turned on her heel and left the shelter. SG-1 regarded each other at length.

"You don't have any C4 in your boot, do ya, Sam?" Jack asked in exactly the same voice he'd use to ask her for the salt across a dinner table.

"Left it in my other socks, sir," she replied. God, how did she get into this? How was this not even in the top five weirdest things she'd been asked to do on the job?

"Shame," Jack said, examining the walls for weakness despite the lack of plastic explosives. 

“What would you even do with C4?" Daniel asked.

“Endless possibilities! Any problem can become a different problem with enough bombs,” Jack told him, then paused. "We can all take a corner then. Daniel and I, ah, have to have something to show for it, but you put on a good performance and I'm sure they'll call two out of three good enough."

It maintained all of their respective dignities, didn't technically break any regulations, and if they collaborated on figuring out the best phrasing that didn't get anyone into sexual harassment training, it could even go in their reports. There was one tiny problem.

"I've never," Sam started. Her mouth was suddenly very dry as the two men stared at her. "I've never faked it."

Daniel exhaled a breath he didn't seem to know he was holding. "Thank God, Sam, I thought you were going to say you've just _never_ ," he said with good humor in his voice.

"I can't stake our lives on acting when I'm not a good actor," she said quietly.

Jack's jaw tightened. "Then we each get a corner and all of us take one for the team."

Sam tried to keep her feelings off her face, but she wasn't quite successful.

"You don't think that'll work?" Daniel asked. "It's exactly what she asked for."

"I." She definitely couldn't finish that sentence. There was no way. "Never mind. Corners are fine. It'll be fine."

"If you have a better idea, or a different idea at all, now's the time to say so. I'd love to say _we made the best decision_ rather than _we were literally and figuratively backed into a corner,_ " Jack said with a grimace.

"I've never faked it and I've never gotten myself off without... something," Sam spat. Never alone with just her hand and her imagination. Every solo orgasm she'd ever had had been accompanied by a vibrator, or erotica, or straight-up pornography, or a fun combination of all three.

Sam tried to concentrate on the anger she was feeling at the godawful situation they were in rather than allowing the blush she felt brewing to surface. She could practically see the gears turning in Jack and Daniel's heads. Why didn't she just agree to fake it? That would have been fine. It wasn't like the citizens here had any frame of reference to compare her performance to.

Jack and Daniel had a very serious nonverbal conversation. Sam didn't know if she wished she could read minds or not.

"Daniel's the cunning linguist," Jack said, never breaking eye contact with him.

If Sam was succeeding before at not blushing, she certainly wasn't now. _What._ She said, flatly.

Daniel scoffed and rolled his eyes. "That got old the second time I heard it, you know."

_How often had he heard it?_

"Oh, so you've heard it often enough for it to be true, then," Jack retorted.

"Not what I meant!"

"But am I wrong?"

Daniel’s silence confirmed to all three of them that Jack was indeed not wrong.

"So we gamble on your acting, or you let Daniel help out," Jack told Sam. "Your choice."

She wished acutely that she'd never thought of almost this exact situation alone in her bed before. Obviously the circumstances were very different, but the conclusion was the same. She would have liked to feel like her decision was purely practical, the one most likely to get them all back to the Stargate alive and unharmed, but she couldn't deny that her past private fantasies played into her conclusion.

"Um. If Daniel's okay with it, I think that, that having him help, is going to get us all home safe the fastest." There. She said it. No going back now. She wouldn't admit to anyone else the way that sentence made heat curl in her belly, but she could privately appreciate that it would at least make the whole affair a little easier for Daniel.

Daniel stepped a little closer into her space. "Um," he said eloquently. "What works for you?"

Sam, renowned wormhole physicist and experienced crisis navigator, couldn't find an answer to that one. What _did_ work for her?

"I get that this is a really, uh, vulnerable thing, but I really would appreciate some guidance before, uh." He trailed off. If there was ever supposed to be a second half of that sentence, Daniel didn't seem particularly inclined to share with the room.

Sam's brain felt like it was soaked in molasses.

"You want mutually assured destruction?" asked Daniel.

Did she want..? Then it clicked. Daniel thought she was uncomfortable because of the blackmail opportunities. Like that had even crossed her mind - like she would ever consider for a second that either Daniel or Jack would ever talk about this again. No, her reservation was more along the lines of the clichéd _will they still respect me in the morning_.

"I've gotten off almost just from giving oral before. If we're really lucky, this will be two birds, one stone," Daniel told her in a nearly-steady voice. Jack snorted from across the room. Sam finally managed to put words together in a sensible way.

"Direct attention works best, foreplay helps a lot, and after we get started I like having something in me." This could not be happening. She was not having this conversation with _Daniel Jackson_. She couldn’t meet his eyes.

But she was, and now _Daniel Jackson_ was shrugging off his jacket and laying it on a low bench made of a sanded-flat log. He gestured in a mockery of grandeur to the bench. Sam laughed despite herself.

"Keeping my pants half-on is just going to make this even weirder, isn't it?" she said by way of explanation as she unzipped her BDUs.

"I don't think it can get weirder," Daniel replied.

"Don't say that!" Jack muttered. Sam had almost forgotten he was here. "You know damn well it can always get weirder."

Before Sam could push her pants down over her hips, Daniel had caught her wrists.

"Thought you said foreplay helps a lot?" he said gently.

Sam's smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "I didn't want..." What didn’t she want? She didn't want Daniel to do something he wasn't comfortable with? Or was it more that she didn't want to actually have a good time, because that would just be too much to deal with when they all got home?

"Look, I get that this is a fucked-up situation and that none of us wanted to be doing this today." He could say that again. "But I really am good at this, and if you let yourself enjoy it, I promise it'll be okay."

Somehow, Sam believed him.

"Daniel Jackson, four-point-seven star oral sex provider on Angie's List," Jack chimed in from his self-designated post near the doorway. Sam guessed he had appointed himself to keep watch.

"Jack, for God's sake, if you're not going to help, can you at least stop hindering?" Daniel asked, exasperated.

Jack and Sam made eye contact. If she had to put a number on it, she'd say Jack had Daniel beat in fantasy appearances six-to-one. Given a choice between the two of them, no strings attached, she'd have chosen Jack. But there were strings attached, and Daniel had volunteered. Besides, what was there left to help with?

"Nobody said helping was an option," Jack said quietly.

Was it an option? Sam thought about it. She was already irrevocably ruining her working relationship (at least by Air Force rules) with Daniel. And SG-1 was already close, and Jack was a good CO and a good person. She watched him lick his lips.

"Two’s better than one," Sam told him – it was a thinly veiled excuse and they all knew it. No one needed to tell him twice, though; Jack crossed the room in a few long steps and stopped a half-step behind her. Sam wondered idly if Jack and Daniel had been implanted with some sort of telepathic communication device during one of their many off-world kidnappings. They certainly had enough silent conversations to make it a real possibility.

The three of them were still not quite over the line. If SG-3 miraculously appeared in the doorway, SG-1 would have nothing too difficult to explain. Sam's pants were unzipped and they were all very close to each other, but that wasn't court martial material.

Another heartbeat’s pause.

The situation changed rapidly. Daniel slipped a hand up to Sam's lower back and pulled her in close. Their first kiss was just a press of lips. God, Sam couldn't believe this was just a regular Thursday for everyone back home at the SGC. As they pulled apart to readjust, Jack closed the last few inches to Sam's back and pressed himself against her. She could feel the warm line of him flush against her, powerful thighs against her hips.

Forget all previous fantasies, this would be the only thing Sam thought about for a long time. She was floating and they hadn't even left home plate.

Daniel placed a hand on her cheek and guided her mouth back to his. Their second kiss was deeper, and their third deeper still. God, but Daniel was good with his mouth. She gasped a little when Jack fit his mouth into the gap between her collar and neck and pressed a kiss to her skin. Two warm, solid bodies - two talented mouths. Daniel broke off their kiss and turned Sam's head a little toward Jack, who picked up where Daniel had left off. Sam firmly tamped down all of the panicky feelings that bubbled to the surface (this was past creative report writing and well into report omission) and enjoyed the feeling of Jack's tongue licking gently into her mouth.

Oh, it didn't matter if Daniel was as good as he said he was or not. This was not going to be a challenge.

One of the men's hands, Sam noticed, had slipped up between her BDU jacket and the waist of her pants. Whoever it was was pulling her black tank up and away, and pressing warm fingers to her hipbone and waist.

Sam squirmed until she could turn around and kiss Jack full-on. She reached up to run her fingers through his short hair, holding on for dear life as he bit her lip and kissed up her jaw to her ear. Meanwhile Daniel took advantage of Jack’s distraction and gently pushed her pants down a fraction of an inch.

A suggestion. How gentlemanly. Sam was over it. She scraped her fingernails against Jack's scalp as she brought one hand down to push at her waistband. Daniel got the picture. He got them down to mid-thigh, then hesitated.

"You're still wearing your boots," he said. 

Sam took a minute to get the non-kissing parts of her brain back online. Boots were no good. Boots had to go. She dragged at Jack's shoulder until he came with her, not pausing the makeout session for even a moment longer than necessary, to the bench with Daniel's jacket. She felt Daniel sit on her other side, and his fingers came to her jaw as Jack broke away from her mouth to kneel on the ground.

And wasn't _that_ an unexpected flood of heat in her groin.

She apparently wasn't very subtle about it, either, because Daniel gave up on pulling her chin around for more kissing and instead undid the front of her jacket. Sam pushed it back off her shoulders, not taking her eyes off Jack untying her boots.

Daniel spread out Sam's jacket next to his, just as Jack pulled her boots off and chucked them somewhere else in the room. Finding them would be a problem for later. Jack grabbed the waist of Sam's pants and let her pull her own legs out so she could straddle the bench facing Daniel. Jack twisted out of his kneeling position and slung a leg over the bench behind Sam in a show of startling grace. He coaxed her to lay back, hands under her head guiding her to a soft spot on his thigh rather than the unforgiving wood of the bench.

Daniel situated himself between Sam's spread legs. Leaned forward, now on his elbows, with his hands on Sam's naked thighs, blown-black eyes fixed on Sam's damp underwear. Sam settled and made herself as comfortable as she could be, moving her head in the process closer to Jack's groin. His leg twitched significantly as her cheek made contact with his groin, and he allowed himself a low groan when she turned her head and nuzzled his fabric-covered erection.

Daniel reached up to the waist of Sam's beige cotton underwear. For a hysterical half-second, Sam could think of nothing but the fact that she was having a threesome on an alien planet with her commanding officer and her best friend, and she didn't even have the decency to wear sexy panties. But she had hard evidence that Jack didn't care. Daniel’s blown pupils assured her that she had nothing to worry about there, either.

Sam twisted her hips to allow Daniel the space to pull her panties down over her thighs and then off completely. He let them fall to the floor and refocused on the task at hand, pressing her legs apart enough to give himself space to lay fully down on the bench so that his mouth was mere inches from her groin. She could feel his breath on her.

She nearly yelped at the first touch of his tongue to her labia. Daniel used just the tip of his tongue to part her lips and give her a long lick from opening to clit. Sam clamped one hand over her mouth, which Jack quickly removed.

"If they minded hearing, they should have just let us go back to the Stargate. Let Daniel know he's doing a good job," Jack told her lowly. He adjusted himself in his pants but paid no more attention to his erection, instead focusing on cradling Sam's head and watching Daniel work.

After a few more long licks, Daniel really got down to it. He took _direct attention works best_ to heart and focused primarily on her clit, alternating light flicking with his tongue with downright obscene sucking that made Sam feel like she was flying.

Four-point-seven stars couldn't have been right. Anyone who rated this any less than perfect was out of their damn mind.

Sam lost herself in the feeling of Daniel's mouth locked around her clit. She had to hand it to him, he was an exceptionally fast learner and extremely in tune with her body. Whoever he had practiced with, learned on, was a lucky woman. Sam would have been jealous if she could think of anything but his _mouth._

Then he pressed a finger to her opening; she was so wet, so ready that even the gentle pressure had him slipping in an inch or so. Daniel slowly, slowly slid the rest of his finger in, all the while keeping up his ministrations on her clit. One finger turned into two almost immediately - a risky move, a tiny part of Sam's brain noted, but one that paid off in spades. Having his long fingers inside her gave her something to clench around, and she could feel how her muscles fluttered around him, trying to draw him deeper inside.

"Oh God, _please_ don't stop," she gasped. She opened her eyes - when had she closed them? - and looked up to see Jack, his eyes fixed on Daniel. She followed his gaze down to where Daniel's face was mostly hidden by her thighs. His glasses were gone, and his blue eyes flicked between Jack's face and her own. She could see his eyes crinkle in a smile as he drew his fingers back and thrust them back in, just as slow as the first time.

Her eyes slid closed again and she let her head fall back to Jack's thigh as Daniel set a pace, somehow finding exactly the right speed the first time. Lucky guess for an unlucky day.

She could feel her orgasm building, the heat deep inside her at first but spreading quickly. Daniel, to his credit, despite the fact that she knew he'd be able to feel a difference, did not change one single thing about what he was doing. She writhed on Jack's thigh and against Daniel's mouth, chasing down an orgasm that was rapidly coming up to meet her.

Then she was there, screaming loud enough to let the whole village know she was no demon. She could feel herself tighten down on Daniel's fingers, feel every wave of her orgasm matched by Daniel's tongue against her clit, feel her thighs shaking as she rode out the wave. Daniel groaned against her, and the vibration drew several more pulses out of her after she was sure she was done. The aftershocks lasted for a long time, actually, helped along by tiny licks and kisses to her labia.

Daniel withdrew his fingers as slowly as he could manage, then gave her a parting kiss to the crease of her thigh and sat up. Sam picked her head up as far as she was able - which wasn't, admittedly, very far - and got a good eyeful of his hand, covering the head of his cock peeking through his BDUs. There was semen on his fingers. Clearly his two birds, one stone prediction had been accurate.

Two down, one to go. Sam pried herself off Jack's leg, her muscles shaky, and turned to kiss his dick through his BDUs. She was only half successful; he had moved his hand from her head to lay protectively over the bulge in his pants at some point.

"Do you...?" Daniel asked him. The room was silent for a long moment while all three of them considered Daniel's unasked question. Sam got the distinct feeling she was missing some piece of information, but her post-orgasm brain wouldn't keep up with the situation.

Then it hit her. The touching, the shared looks, Jack's poor decision-making after Daniel had ascended, even the conversation in her lab before Honduras - it clicked. She was a little disappointed in herself that Jack _literally telling her that Daniel was really good with his mouth_ didn't make the puzzle pieces fit together, but there it was.

"I can. Um," she said helpfully, swinging one leg over the bench to get up. However they wanted to accomplish this, she didn't have to be involved.

Daniel and Jack looked at her with twin expressions of horror.

"D'you think I'm blind or just stupid? You were staring at each other instead of the woman between you," she said as lightly as she could manage. "You don't tell anyone about this, I won't tell anyone about... this."

They seemed content with that.

Whatever they usually did (at home? on base? Maybe- God forbid- in tents off-world? Sam fought the urge to ask a million questions after this was over) though, this situation was obviously different. Sam swapped places with Daniel on the bench. Daniel licked his fingers clean, and good Lord if Sam wasn't ready to go all over again at the sight of that. Not the time or place to be greedy, though.

Jack was apparently thinking the same thing; he couldn't take his eyes off Daniel's hand and mouth as he peeled his zip down and gently freed his dick. Sam wasn't sure if they expected her to watch or not, but she figured they had just watched her have one of the top ten orgasms of her life, so surely an extra pair of eyes on Jack wouldn't be out of line.

Not that the whole thing took very long at all. Daniel wrapped his licked-clean hand around the shaft of Jack's cock, found a loose grip, and set a deliberate pace. Jack's head fell back, and he braced himself with one arm behind him as his mouth came open. It took maybe thirty seconds until Sam watched Jack’s face go slack, before he covered the head of his cock with his free hand to prevent any unnecessary mess.

Jack was silent but for a sharp exhale. Daniel's hand slowed but never stopped, until Jack leaned forward again and caught his wrist. Sam thought they might kiss, but the only intimacy was a shared gentle smile before both of them tucked themselves back into their BDUs one-handed.

Possibly dangerous as her lack of physical evidence was, Sam was grateful she never had to deal with a palm full of semen.

All three were silent as they set themselves back to rights. Daniel had been careful to keep Sam's underwear nearby after he took them off of her, but Jack had done his best to scatter her boots and pants evenly across the room. It still took her less than a minute to dress, and another to pull her boots on and lace them up.

A quick glance between them confirmed that they were ready to leave the structure and prove they were, in fact, human. As they exited, Jack scanned the vicinity for any sign of the tall woman - or, in fact, anyone. The surrounding area was devoid of people. It hadn't exactly been a bustling metropolis before, but now, there was no one.

"Hey!" Jack shouted. Sam turned her head to look where he was looking. The tall woman was standing at the edge of the thicker forest, at least two hundred feet away. Jack gave her a wildly exaggerated wave with - oh God - his dirty hand. "So nice to meet ya! We're gonna go ahead and get going now! Have a nice life!" he yelled.

Daniel handed her a P90; he had found their weapons and other gear in a haphazard pile around the corner of the structure. How long had they been unsupervised with their guns thirty feet away?

They donned their gear again. Nothing was missing, miraculously. The whole encounter was strange, but leaving them alone in the village and trusting them to find their own way home? Sam didn't have an answer for that. Maybe Daniel could offer a better explanation, but right now, it was time to get back to the Gate.

Or, actually, they needed to get back to the _atmospheric monitoring equipment_. That was what they were here for, after all. Jack's sense of direction would find the Stargate, and then all they would need to dial home, check in, and hike for another cool six miles.

Jack looked sideways at her. “Lucky for us the natives listened to reason and let us go after Daniel talked to them,” he said slowly.

“He does have a, ah, silver tongue,” Sam replied.

Daniel snorted. They’d figure out the specifics of the story on the walk home – something that would justify blocking the gate address, hopefully.

A regular Thursday, indeed.


End file.
